


Sodachi Paradise

by darkcherrymystery



Category: Bakemonogatari
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcherrymystery/pseuds/darkcherrymystery
Summary: "I wish Koyomi Araragi would just die." It's Sodachi's and Koyomi's first day of college, and both are surprised to see each other at the entrance ceremony. I wish I could say that romantic hijinks ensue, but things quickly turn dire after Sodachi confesses her feelings (of hatred) for Koyomi to a classmate who turns out to be not quite what she seems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: In Sodachi Fiasco, currently the only canon Monogatari story told from Sodachi's point of view, the narration lacks quotation marks. In an attempt to mimic that style, I've also left out quotation marks. Hopefully it will be clear what is spoken and what is not. Also, although this story takes place chronologically afterward, there are no major spoilers for Sodachi Fiasco or any other Off Season story.

Have you ever hated someone so much that the very thought of them makes you want to vomit? When you recall their mannerisms, their facial expressions, their little idiosyncrasies, their lovable flaws, their clothes, their voice, their hair... As soon as his smile or his laughter or the crease of his brows so much as appears in your mind, don't you feel like your heart is about to shatter? Doesn't your chest tighten at the slightest whiff of a memory of him—of this person?

And then you start hating yourself, don't you, for being so easily affected, so easily buffeted about by the man you despise above all else. He's not your _nemesis_ , to use a childish term; he hardly even thinks about you. You're nothing to him, but he's still everything to you. Blotting out your mind with the blackness of hate through mere thoughts and recollections, not even the slightest effort on his part. It's not fair. It's not _fair_. To be pitied by someone you loathe. To be so consumed by hate that you feel like the world is ending when you simply spot him across an assembly hall. To see his face light up with excitement as yours is turning crimson with confusion and rage, and all you can think between panicked gasps is:

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate and hate with hate of hate to hate for hate so hate in hate on hate by hate through hate plus hate yet hate at hate into hate upon hate...

Your vision goes blurry, and you start hyperventilating. Is he coming over here? Is he coming toward me? The fight-or-flight response kicks in. You simply can't bear to see him in front of you again, grinning and playing the fool, asking if you remember him or not. Talking about how much of a coincidence it is, seeing you here. Small world, huh. Surely he thought you'd be begging on the streets or dead by now. Ha ha ha.

So, you run. Turn tail and run, pushing through the crowd of other first-year students at Manase University until you put the whole building behind you.

You turn around, and the man you despise so much doesn't seem to have followed you. Deep breaths. Deeper and deeper breaths, returning to normal, the redness draining from your face. You have your first classes today—got to get yourself together. Don't let him dominate your first day of college. Don't let him ruin yet another chapter in your life, Oikura.

Indeed, Oikura. Sodachi Oikura; that's my name.

And surprisingly enough, what I just described really happened to me—on my first day of school at Manase University, at the end of the entrance ceremony, I locked eyes with Koyomi Araragi and ran away as fast as I could.

However, this is not the story of my first day of college with an old enemy.

This is the story of how I killed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Equipped as I was with the knowledge that my sad attempts to fit in usually end in unmitigated disaster, I had yet to think of any alternatives. Maybe I chose to believe that my plans are all wonderful, I just come up short on the execution, so after all the failures I'd experienced in my life I finally stood a decent chance of making a friend... or maybe I was just desperate. Or a fool. Probably all three, actually. In any case, I sat through a whole day of introductory lectures (luckily, _that man_ did not make any more appearances), biding my time, scouting out the best potential friendship candidate.

She needed to be a girl—yes, a girl; I wouldn't entirely rule out boys, but I didn't want to introduce any needless levels of difficulty to the operation—who seemed like she didn't know anyone, but not the type who already had lots of friends back home. A loner, but not one who was overly satisfied being alone, since my friendship needed to seem advantageous to her. Even better if she were having trouble adjusting to the college experience and could use someone to lean on.

I found the perfect girl in my last class of the day (I won't trouble you with the details). By then I had mostly calmed down from my encounter with Araragi in the morning, though I still tensed up at the start of every lecture to see whether or not he would show up... I made sure to remember her name from the roll call: Mari Sasakura. That her surname shared a character with mine was a good omen, or so I thought.

I should never trust my instincts.

I approached Sasakura as the class dispersed. She really did seem out of place; she looked to be wearing something akin to a hospital gown... and on closer inspection, it really was a hospital gown. My goodness—you can't make a good first impression with that kind of avant-garde fashion choice. Even I know that. What's more, she'd been casting glances around the classroom as roll was called, almost as if, like me, she was desperately searching for potential allies.

It was always possible, of course, that I was just reading her in the most convenient way for _me_ , and her circumstances were completely different from what I had assumed. I began to doubt myself as I drew closer, frantically trying to come up with a countermeasure to my plan going horribly wrong as usual.

I was unsuccessful.

Hi there, Sasakura-san...

Oh dear. That sounded forced, didn't it. Dammit. Who says “hi there” these days?

It was then that I noticed Sasakura's lack of... well, anything. She didn't have a notebook or pen; she didn't even seem to have a bag, or a purse, or a phone. I wonder if she forgot her things somewhere, and that's why she seemed restless? This whole thing is going to blow up in my face, I can tell.

Oh? And who are you?

I blinked. My name is Sodachi Oikura.

Oikura, huh.

She stood up abruptly and grabbed my shoulder. Oh god. Oh god. What's happening? This isn't normal, is it? What, does the hospital gown mean she's escaped from a mental health ward or something? Have I unwittingly involved myself with someone dangerous—

Don't give me that deer-in-the-headlights look.

I tried to control my breathing, but my heart was pounding. Calm down. Nothing bad has happened yet. You can still turn this around. She took her hand off my shoulder and showed off a decidedly impish grin; I stammered out a weak laugh.

Well, this is her last class. So that's my job all done. I haven't been out and about like this for ages, and you were kind enough to approach me... How about I tag along with you for a while?

I felt a mix of confusion (who's the “her” she mentioned?) and relief (my half-baked advance seemed to have paid off). Sure, I'd love that. Do you want to go anywhere, Sasakura-san?

Oh, nowhere in particular. I'll just follow you. You're walking home, right?

Yes, back to my dorm... I smiled—almost earnestly—and took a step toward the door, before remembering. Is there anything you have to, um... I glanced at her hospital gown.

Fortunately, she didn't seem to understand what I was getting at. She cocked her head and flashed another big-toothed grin. Lead the way.

My goodness, this is going far better than I could possibly have imagined. My plan had worked so well that I suddenly became overrun with self-doubt. Is this some kind of elaborate prank? Am I being made fun of?

Could this turn out to be a disaster on levels I hadn't even thought possible?

Certainly.

Make no mistake, it was exactly that.

Just not in the dimension you might expect.

Anyway, I tried to stifle those doubts as we made our way out of the university building. All I had to do was leave without running into Araragi, and everything would be fine—and fortunately, I saw neither hide nor hair of him. I was planning to start up some small talk with Sasakura when we got out in the open; as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, however, she launched a question at me.

So, Oikura. What do you think you'll be reincarnated as?

Hm?

Confusion surging, I stopped walking, but Sasakura gave me a firm push. I took a sidelong look at her face—she was still grinning widely. Almost malevolently... but that might just be psychological projection. After all, my own smile looks downright ghastly.

I started walking again. I thought about her question for a little while, but as I'd never given the topic any thought, I couldn't provide more than an equivocal response. I doubt I'll be reincarnated. If I am, I'll just leave it up to the powers that be.

Hah. She snorted. Have you reached nirvana, or what? Think you're better than the rest of us?

My face reddened. No, I didn't mean...

Dammit. Why do I always end up saying things I don't mean? I quickly glanced at Sasakura—fortunately, she hadn't lost her grin. My heart rate didn't go down, though.

Once I die, I'll stay in Hell forever. This world is better off with me down there.

I _think_ I spoke with the proper amount of self-deprecation, but it's me, after all. I attempted a wry smile and looked over at Sasakura. She wasn't freaking out, at least, though I could almost detect a hint of pity in her eyes. Could be my imagination.

Avici Hell, huh. You really think you'll end up down there for the rest of time? You're not even twenty years old yet; what cardinal sins could you possibly have committed?

Well, matricide... or so my father tells me. But I obviously couldn't say that.

Besides, I've been assured that it's not even true.

Nothing that bad yet. It's just a premonition.

You put yourself in Avici Hell based on a premonition? She snorted again. What a strange little girl.

Several thoughts flashed through my mind—if you're so skeptical, go ask Araragi; I'm not a little girl, I'm a college student like you—but mostly I was just relieved I hadn't upset my new friend. As we waited by a crosswalk, I took the time for a few deep breaths and pondered what to say next. She seems interested in Buddhist philosophy, maybe something about—

Try your best to avoid that place. Trust me on this one.

I knitted my brows. That's just common sense, isn't it? I never said I was _aiming_ for Avici, anyway...

Oh, is she making a joke? I didn't hear anything in her tone that would suggest sarcasm, but if you think about it, there's no way a college girl could mean that as anything but a joke, right? It's not like she's been to Hell herself. And I've never been all that terrific at reading the mood. Heh. Could even say my social obliviousness was the chief cause of my high school misfortune... Behind my arrogance, of course.

As much as I'd like to think my ordeal at my latest high school had sharpened my social perception, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was about to commit yet another massive blunder. And yet... that's normal for me, in a way. Par for the course. You know what? It's probably best if I don't dwell on my misgivings, and put my heart into chatting with my classmate. So, after we crossed the street, I said:

Sasakura-san, I don't mean to pry, but why are you wearing a hospital gown?

She stopped.

Seeing that, blood surged into my face amid a flood of instant regret. Why the hell (forgive the play on words) did I ask something so personal? Of course she has some kind of situation, why else would you wear a hospital gown to your first day of school? Idiot! Now I've made her talk about her illness or injury or whatever, and she'll hate me...

But Sasakura just chuckled. She turned toward me with a wry expression on her face—the kind of expression you'd show a friend who just caught you cheating at a card game.

It _is_ unusual, isn't it. Nobody spoke to me all day, so I thought I might've gotten away with it, but... I suppose it was like they were all straight men pretending to go along with a prank. _Nori-tsukkomi,_ y'know?

No, I think people just avoided her because they thought she was weird.

I didn't say that, though.

Well, there's always a limit to what I can do for my jobs. Guess I'm about at my limit.

That confused me—is it her job to wear a hospital gown or something?—but I had no time to think it over. She turned toward me. The devilish grin had returned to her face.

I like you, Oikura. I suppose it's time for me to take my leave, but before I go, how about I do a job for you?

Do a... job? Like what? Do my homework...? Now I was thoroughly confused, but above all, I didn't want to turn away my new friend. This moment might prove vital for my ability to fit in at college.

Okay. Sure.

Wonderful. Her grin widened. Was it just me, or did her teeth look a little large for a girl about my size? Probably just imagining things.

What's your wish?

……

My wish? Um... I wish I had enough money to buy some cake, once in a while... Maybe Sasakura could treat me to dessert in a cafe, or something? That was my line of thinking, at least.

Ahaha, you've got to think bigger than that, Oikura.

Bigger than dessert? What on Earth could this hospital gown-wearing girl do for me? It's probably best if I don't think of this as asking for a favor; she might be offering to help me out with one of my problems, for all I know.

Well, my housing situation is less than ideal at the moment... Oh, I'm not asking you to—

Housing situation? Come on. Give me a real job.

She put both her hands on my shoulders. I tensed up.

What would make the biggest improvement to your existence, Oikura?

Tell me.

Psychological counseling? Is that what this is? If so, I can't help but think this girl needs it way more than I do. I was so taken aback at this point that I was starting to think I'd be better off spending my college life as a loner. Just need to get through this moment. Survive this, and she goes away, right?

Tomorrow I can try to find another friend to balance out this one's bizarre personality.

I just need to think of an answer that will satisfy her.

The biggest improvement to my existence?

Hah.

Yes, now that I think about it, there's really just one thing I can say.

Of the many negative presences in my life—my abusive, drunkard father, the first-year high school teacher who helped send me into truancy, my unpleasant former classmates Hitagi Senjougahara and Lily Suzubayashi, to name a few—only one has such a profound, dangerous, heart-wrenching and nauseating affect on me whenever it rears its ugly head.

_Have you ever hated someone so much that the very thought of them makes you want to vomit?_

When you recall their mannerisms, their facial expressions, their little idiosyncrasies, their lovable flaws, their clothes, their voice, their hair, their smile, their laughter, or the crease of their brows, _don't you feel like your heart is about to shatter?_

Wouldn't your world be a much better place if that person was absent from it?

If only.

I laughed out loud.

Mari Sasakura looked at me expectantly.

  
  


I wish Koyomi Araragi would just die.

  
  


Her grin grew so wide that her face practically took on a demonic quality. She took her hands off my shoulders and began rubbing them together in excitement. Lovely, lovely. Even better than I thought, Oikura.

Th-thank you? I stammered. She's happy now, right? Just go away. Please.

I desperately needed some time to myself.

Ironic, considering I'd been desperate for company just a few minutes ago.

I'll be off, then. We'll probably never meet again, so this is farewell.

Never meet again? I breathed a sigh of relief. We wouldn't be friends, after all; that seemed like a good thing right about now.

Goodbye, Sasakura-san.

She winked, then strode off in the opposite direction of my dorm.

I started walking again, feeling like I'd somehow dodged a bullet. Hmph, I muttered. She never did say why she was wearing a hospital gown.

It was hardly dusk when I got back to my dorm room, but my first day of college had tired me out more than I'd expected, so I found myself getting ready for bed just an hour or so after returning.

When I closed my eyes, the sun was setting.

It was still setting when I was forced to open them again.


	3. Chapter 3

No sooner had I shut my eyes than a thud on the floor next to me jolted them wide open.

I sat up immediately.

A tall figure was crouching down beside my bed. With the leftover light from the sunset, I could tell that she was a woman wearing a long dress—had she jumped up and down, for some reason?

How did she get into my room, then? This is supposed to be a dormitory for students, and she was clearly not a student.

I might say that I could tell as much from her height, her golden hair, or her voluptuous bust, but that would be kind of biased, right? Adults can go to college, and there are plenty of exchange students from overseas nowadays.

No, what tipped me off that she wasn't a student was the same thing that told me wasn't a human being: long, fibrous, bat-like wings extended from the center of her back, rustling with raw strength. My window was wide open... Put two and two together, and it was clear she had flown in—

Wait, wait, stop right there, Oikura.

Tall blonde demons don't just fly into random college dorms.

Goodness, I must have been more tired than I thought. Heh. What a vivid nightmare.

I watched the shadowy woman withdraw her wings into her back with a fascination befitting a dream—or so I hoped. There was _no_ way this was real.

She turned toward me. I bit my lip.

So beautiful...

For some reason, I became extremely aware that I was in my pajamas.

Silly. Of course I'm in my pajamas; I'm asleep, and this is a dream.

Nevertheless, I kept feeling self-conscious as the demonic figure stood up and approached me.

Those feelings instantly turned to dread when she slapped me across the cheek and I didn't wake up.

I froze.

Just what the _hell_ do ye think you're doing?

Arguably, one could say that's my line, not hers... but something told me it was not a good time for a witty comeback. Her voice was rather haughty, and clearly angry too. Was this... was I... not dreaming...?

No, no, no, no, no, I'm just sleeping extremely soundly, of course.

Of course.

Did ye really hate him that much, girl?

W-who?

_Who!?_

Ara... Araragi...?

Perhaps this is my conscience visiting a nightmare upon me, chiding me for wishing that Araragi were dead earlier. What, surely that was nothing special. After all, I've wished him dead countless times already. Haven't I?

A. Ra. Ra. Gi. My master, Koyomi Araragi. Who _else_ did ye sic that thing on today!?

She grabbed my shoulders—that's the second time someone's done that to me today, and I really don't like it—and shook me. My heartbeat quickened. Shouldn't I be waking up soon?

I... I!

My first words since parting ways with Sasakura stuck in my throat. Sic? What thing?

I didn't sic anything on—

'Tis not in your interest to play the fool, girl. Just when I'd thought I could finally relax and take life, or whatever ye call this, easy...

She was clearly raging, but in the fading twilight I could see traces of blood-red tears under her eyes.

My mind raced. At this point, it was becoming very difficult to presume I was dreaming.

I _will_ have ye atone for this crime.

C-crime? My voice was quiet, but make no mistake; I was surprised I could speak at all.

However, my superhuman effort was only met with supernatural scorn.

I told ye not to play the fool, did I not!? The woman gave me a firm jolt backward and stood up straight beside my bed. As she stood there, looking down on me with her chin up, she seemed to grow even taller. Even in the dim light, her golden eyes shone fiercely.

When she opened her mouth to speak again, I noticed her fangs.

Ye must bring him back, she declared, and mashed her teeth. Those sharp, inhuman teeth.

I was so bewildered that I couldn't even manage to be scared. If I'm not dreaming, then could I be hallucinating? No, surely a hallucination couldn't manhandle me. So...

Am I dead? Maybe, as I sometimes wonder, this “life” I perceive as my everyday reality is simply a cruel vision from the afterlife. Maybe I died a long time ago, and my demons are finally catching up to me.

Supposing Araragi was my own, personal devil, then those demons have been trying to catch me for quite some time—at least a year.

That could also explain how stubbornly he pursues his way back into my life, no matter how many times I break off relations.

Wait, Oikura.

Don't jump to conclusions—especially at a time like this.

If Araragi were my personal demon, then who is this tall, blond, foreign demon, and what is she doing in my dorm room?

If I'm dead, then—

_What the hell are ye on about?_

The tall, blond, foreign demon narrowed her eyes.

Did I say some of that out loud, I wonder? Damn. That's just like me.

I've not killed ye yet. No. Though, 'twould be natural to assume I'd come here for that very purpose.

There was something mesmerizing about her eyes. Hold on... A chill ran up my spine. I'm not dead... yet?

She continued.

Ye may very well think I'm here to avenge my master's death, but that will not satisfy me.

Some of her raw anger had subsided, I thought, but I could still sense a white-hot rage behind her words.

W-whose death? I found myself asking. Your... master?

I felt strange, as though I had been presented with all the components of an elementary algebra problem, yet I couldn't manage to assemble them into the right equation.

...Having a demon break into your bedroom dulls your critical thinking skills.

Ye must bring him back. Girl. I demand it. She repeated what she'd just said, though that hardly made it easier for me to comprehend. Her master had died, and she wants me to...?

As the hairs started prickling on the back of my neck, I raised my hands in front of my chest. I intended to make a conciliatory gesture—though whether or not I was successful, well, is anyone's guess.

I'm sorry, I don't...

The beautiful demon did not enjoy my effort, apparently. She grabbed my wrists in one hand and bent over me. Her grip was crushingly tight.

Perhaps ye require a small reminder of your sin. Her voice was low.

If only, if only I could still believe I was dreaming. Or even having a nightmare. If I could earnestly believe that I was not in mortal jeopardy, then maybe I could think clearly.

Regrettably, the onset of real fear had arrived, and it had paralyzed both my mind and my body. I could only sit there, on my bed, wearing my fancy silk pajamas, and wait for the demonic intruder to mete out her wrath.

We have but a short time 'til it crumbles to dust. Savor the sight of it while ye can... I will savor the taste.

She snarled, reaching behind her with her other hand into a small knapsack hanging from her shoulder.

Sodachi Oikura.

That is my name. I was much too terrified to speak.

Childhood friend.

I don't have any friends. Still, my thoughts froze.

Behold the fruit of your labor.

The woman removed a large object from the bag and thrust it in front of my face. Inches in front of my face. Millimeters.

My eyes glazed over.

Some small part of my brain recognized blood dripping onto my outstretched arms.

Another part, refusing to allow my eyes to close and retreat from reality, felt tears unlike any I'd ever shed flowing down my cheeks. Tears not of sadness or joy, nor even anger, lust, or love—tears of stupefaction, the physiological reaction of a body wholly unable to comprehend the situation in which it finds itself.

Before me was a familiar face.

Or, rather, a familiar head.

Its voice suddenly rang out in my mind—Hey, Oikura! I'm sure you've forgotten all about me by now. I was number two in the attendance list back in our first year. Any chance you remember me?

Of course.

How could I ever forget about you?

_Araragi._   
  


 


End file.
